An Easter Interlude
by Eileen Blazer
Summary: A short, fluffy piece of Romyness. Happy Easter


Happy Easter! This is a short, fluffy story, rather like an Easter bunny. My gift to you, completely lacking of any real strife, troubles (sort of), worries, angst, or the like. Just happy, poofy, and fun. ^_^   
Goes best with chocolate!   


An Easter Interlude   
Eileen Blazer   
April 2003   


White lace, like any sharp-edged sword or explodable medley of wires, was not evil, dangerous, cruel, unjust itself. It took a hand to weild the weapon, to attack, to kill. And so it required a hand to take a simple, rather innocent, elegant, piece of white lace and sew it into something awful and frightening. 

Something like a frilly, white Easter dress. The dress hung foolishly proud on its hanger, with its poofy bottom puffed out like a rooster's chest, shiny satin strings, tightly drawn bodice, and extending arms of the stiff material. Add a pair of wooden shoes, and it could have been Heidi's wedding gown. 

Rogue studied the abomination that had planted itself on her bed. Her fingers cautiously reached out to feel it, but two inches prior to contact, they coiled inward. Too risky. Her eyes darted to the doors. Had someone walked it in, or had the foreign outfit been spawned from the dust and bad vibes drifting in their room via open window? 

"So do you, like, like it?" 

Rogue rotated herself, crossing her arms, growing immediately suspicious of the newly entered brunette. The girl grinned back at her in joy. "What do ya mean, do Ah like it? What's it doin' on mah bed?" 

Kitty Pryde came closer, her own baby blue skirt shifting with each step. The ends of her brown hair had been curled and set free of the usual ponytail, now she pushed them back, absent-mindedly, with the front of her hand. "I mean, what do you think? Have you tried it on yet?" 

A ghastly look painted itself on her face. Surely, Kitty didn't mean for her to wear it. Wasn't it painful enough, just to look? "Ah ain't tryin' that on." She said. 

"Oh don't be such a baby. We searched everywhere for your dress. You're wearing it, even if Jean has to help you change with her powers." 

"Not even you're dress is that bad." Rogue said, giving the two piece a quick survey. The whole outfit was rather Kittyesque, as in, nice if you were a preppy, american pie kind of kid. 

"Compliments will get you nowhere. Now hurry up, because they want to take pictures in an hour and you know some of the younger kids can't stay clean for longer that. You're hairband is in the bathroom." Kitty patted her shoulder. "You'll survive." 

"Ah ain't wearin' this!" Rogue called after Kitty, who ignored her and phased back outside. 

Next year, she would never consent to letting her roommate pick her Easter dress. Not next year or ever again, even if it meant accompanying them on their shopping trip. Rogue sat beside the dress, finally touching it, poking it with the tip of her glove. 

Maybe she could fix it. There was a roll of black ribbon in her top drawer, black netting folding neatly above her closet, and a pair of vintange gloves that might match. If she cut off the sleeves entirely, replaced some of the material underneath the first layer with the netting, and added a black belt, it might be wearable. 

"'Allo dere, Chere. Dat's de dress dey chose, non?" 

Inwardly, Rogue sighed, rolling her eyes. In the doorway, a young Cajun man, Remy LeBeau was pressed, his back against the wooden frame, his right foot braced at the other end. LeBeau had joined their team after Magneto abandoned his youngest Acolytes, when they refused to carry out a mission and risk the lives of several prominent figures. Xavier, in his eternal hopefullness, had invited Remy, St. John, and Colossus to the mansion, to learn and grow as one of the X-men. 

Rogue hadn't particuarlly cared about the addition, until it became obvious that the Cajun had an interest in her. She'd wake up and find a Jack of Hearts card lying beside her pillow, and a freshly cut rose atop her blankets. A lit candle illuminating a box of chocolates on her dresser. A bubble bath prepared as she first stepped into the bathroom, a Queen of Hearts floating majestically on the ripples. 

It was embarrassing, how much he flirted with her, everywhere they went. The breakfast table, the ride to school, in the living room, outside. Why had he chosen her? Was it a joke, while he really set his eye on Jean? A way to throw Scott off guard, perhaps. Now, Rogue went out of her way to avoid him. 

"Yeah, this is it." 

"So what, did dey take a table cloth an' stuff it wit' bubble wrap?" At least he had enough sense to recognize an atrocity when it saw it. "Y' not gonna wear dat, are you?" 

"Not like this." 

"O' not at all. Chere, Remy here, an' dis be your lucky day." 

"Somebody thinks awful highly o' himself, don't he." 

He grinned at her, his blood red eyes twinkling like real, burning stars. He leaned back and grabbed a large box with one hand, tossing it lighty to her bed, where it squashed her dress. She raised a curious eyebrow. "What's this?" 

"Open it an' see." 

She shouldn't have, with Remy's sensibility it could very well have been a piece of lingerie, or something equally inappropriate. But she wanted to be rid of him, so that she would have time to fix her dress.   
She picked it up and removed the red ribbon bow, lifting up the lid... 

"A dress?" She said. And this time, it was a real dress, a long mint green, sleeveless gown, of a delicate material, with intricate beading along the sides. "Its beautiful." She murmered, more to herself than to Remy. 

"T'ought you'd like it." 

"But, why did ya get this? For meh?" 

He shurgged. "Saw de one dey bought, an' knew it wouldn't do y' justice." 

"But Ah thought they'd hidden it." And she'd looked for it too, in every possible space. 

"Mais, had m' own Easter hunt." 

She glanced at the tag. "Its mah size. How'd ya know?" 

"From sight." He had been watching her, all the time. 

"How'd ya afford it?" Rogue regretted the question. If he'd taken it without paying, one of his bad habits, she couldn't possibly accept it. But she wanted to accept it! It was infinitely nicer than that other white mess her friends had purchased. 

"What kind of question is dat. Can't ask 'bout de cost o' a present, Chere. Bad manners." He wagged his finger, as if to say: tsk tsk. Shame on you. 

"But, Ah don't understand _why_." 

"An' I don't understand why its such a crazy idea. Scott bought Jean a bracelet an' nobody doubts his sanity." 

"Yeah, Gumbo, but they're datin'." 

"If you'd accept my offer fo' dinner, den we wouldn't have dis problem." 

She sighed again, but there was less annoyance in it this time, and more flirty playfulness. Rogue herself didn't notice the change, though she was quite aware of the consideration and thoughtfulness his gift had shown. 

She looked at him again, hard this time, noting the stubble on his chin, the gleam of his red eyes, the tousle of his hair -longer in the past few months, the easy posture, the lanky limbs. He was clad in a nice suit of his own for the holiday, black slacks and a gray sweater that hung on him rather nicely. 

There was an eagerness in his expression, mingled with a gentleness that hadn't been obvious before the joining of the two teams. How could such sharp, angular features mold into so soft a look?   
She removed a glove and felt the material. "Ah'd make a terrible date." 

"I'm a good teacher. Give me a chance to use m' skills." 

"Ya prob'ly won't like meh much. Ah'm not all that interesting." 

"I be easily amused." 

"Get too frisky, an' you'll be in a coma for weeks." 

"Love a challenge, Chere." 

She frowned at his persistance. "Remy, look, ya seem...all right, Ah guess. This dress thing, kinda amazes meh with its sweetness. But...Ah don't know if Ah'm cut out ta go out...find someone else." 

It was his turn to sigh, exhaling loudly. He stepped inside the room and knelt next to the bed. "Chere, I seen all dose other filles, an' dey all right. Nice. No one is as intriquin', promisin', o' pretty as you. Now if m' attention genuinely bothers you, den I try an' stop. I bite my tongue when it wants t' say somethin' nice 'bout you, close my eyes when dey try an' follow you down de hall, and hold dese hands when dey itch t' touch y' hair. But don't ask me t' chose someone else, 'cause as far as I can see, you de only one wort' aimin' fo'." 

Rogue blushed, a brilliant red, suddenly aware of the pounding in her chest, the flutter of her stomach. She buried her face into her hands, unsure as to whether she wanted to giggle or cry. Was he always this...this...amazing mixture of Adonis and chocolate, so beautiful and sweet. She thought maybe it was planned, but that too spoke highly of him, for what was there to gain from such a venture but her affections? 

"Jeez, Remy. Ya know how ta make a point, don't ya." 

"When I t'ink its worth makin'." 

She sucked in her breath. "Okay then." 

"Okay?" 

"Tomorrow night, ya can take meh out." 

"Dat long I have t' wait?" 

"MmmHmm. But if you're really anxious, you can walk meh downstairs for the pictures." 

He smiled. "I wait outside while you change." She nodded and he raised himself up, striding to the door. Just before he was out, she called back to him." 

"Yes, Chere?" 

"Happy Easter."   



End file.
